words as photographs

No value to the conversation So you switch off the connection. Hang up. Hang up now! Hung up again. Idle chatter ephemerally dropped into the void. Done and done Say hi to the busy tone.

Masters of Sex, Season 2. Minor spoilers.

I don't see how one could become friends under the guise of pursuing a relationship. It doesn't feel right. I'd rather keep talking to reach some kind of conclusion, and come out of another life experience with some sort of understanding about at least myself, but hopefully mutual. Some women want emotional bonding like men want physical. They lock on to that, unwilling to consider getting to know one another at all as friends, and then maybe build upon that. Of going through a period without expectations or loaded exchanges, and just take the time to get to know someone. No, straight to attachment. Straight to the mess of emotional vulnerability, when intimacy is the most scary thing in the world. And do they really want intimacy? Do they know what that entails? That you're left completely naked and the slightest misunderstanding has the sound of a mountain breaking and crying and you just want to dress up the armour again and fight? No. Generally, where men go fo...

Entertaining, yet I didn't want to get up on that stage. I can't carry this light alone in my hands. I brush my black suit, I settle my black tie over my white shirt. The light spills and falls to the ground, seeping through my fingers, glints captured on pearl cufflinks. The room goes a darker shade of cynic. Now I'm the judge. I take off my wig, I'm a bailiff. I put on a burlap sack on my head, I'm the executioner, Silence is instilled, down falls the crimson curtain, the speech is halted and stilted. Communication breakdown. Why was I on a stage? Why am I a defendant? Why no good deed goes unpunished? Unlit and uncared for, this thorny rose of truth in me withers as we go from white to grey to black. Bleeding me again, I'm still holding to the stem. Impossible to let go, I'd be unmoored and adrift without it. Acceptance of the pain is due, it's unavoidable and it will be comforting. Such is the cost of being grounded within myself, the three constan...

346 days after I got my back inked, Metallica released Atlas, Rise! Melodically and harmonically, a love song to old school metal like Diamond Head and Judas Priest. Lyrically, a composition about the need to hold under the pressure, to accept one's position and to hell with frustration. Metallica were huge for me, having lost their sheen in the last few years. Still it's curious how reality intersects into itself and despite tattoos being permanent, their meaning is fluid, changing and expanding over time. Stuff sometimes just gets better.

The symbol of what I am achieving. The chapter marker. The ticket in to a brotherhood. A hand-shake with danger. A very present reminder to keep my cool at all times. Vanity. Power. A statement. My set of two new wheels and a throaty engine.

So now I'm frantically looking into upgrading my ride. Very likely to be on top of an FZ6 Fazer before October is done.

Goddamn it Amazon.

I now equate falling in love to getting struck by lightning without access to a rod. It's not something you have any control over. The heavens choose you. You increase the odds of getting hit by dancing inside the cyclone. By getting ripped apart as sacrifice to Boreas. Getting so soaked there's no notion of where the flesh ends and the liquid begins. This treading of storm water, this hell of prevailing misery, this is the business of seeking love. Of catching lightning.

Esta é a versão superior do original de Vitorino. É irónico ter nesta versão aquela que considero a melhor música do álbum. Um exercício então: listar todos os sub-textos na letra, para que não eu me esqueça, e dois ou três de vocês também não. Consideremos o título que descreve toda a cena. É uma canção sobre um coronel que foi feliz em Monsanto...   

The character feels the need to love. There’s a constant and present need for him to hold a woman - any woman - in high regard. To adore and worship. The character is a man. The man is me. Why would this man allow himself this state of being? Because he is weak. Because he only values himself through the eyes of a woman who is in turn valued by him. He puts value into her, knowing she will give it back. But a single woman is not enough, nor will ever be. She will grow accustomed to his attention, as all beings do, and the value of the things he does will naturally decrease overtime. He will cut his losses, abandon her because the effort it takes for him to feel valued through her eyes is too great to bear. His only way out - my only way out - is to be able to value myself through my own eyes.

Ontem foi um dia muito fraco. Uma ex-namorada continuou a insistir em estabelecer contacto, mesmo já tendo passado quase quatro meses desde que acabámos. Há gente que não tem noção e toda a atenção dela irrita-me por achar vir dum sítio podre. Não se trata de curiosidade relativamente à minha pessoa, mas uma necessidade doente em envolver-se comigo para preencher um buraco na auto-estima dela. Faz-me sentir como a porra dum remédio, em vez de uma pessoa. Enfim... porque raio começam os meus posts com merdas destas? Ah, já sei, estava a tentar estabelecer uma introdução. Enfim, foi um dia fraco. Mas durante a minha caminhada na hora de almoço ouvi um podcast com o Seth Rogen, onde estava a promover o Preacher, uma série que o Francisco anda a seguir e recomenda. Hoje de manhã estava a fazer o meu orçamento, algo que não só é útil, como estranhamente catártico. Há qualquer coisa de tranquilizante em ver as finanças organizadas, a potenciarem o futuro. E a pensar em futuro, criar ...

This year I: started seeing someone,  went to the US did a road trip and cruise, probably the most fun in my life,  got back enamoured with the USA,  decided I was through with Oxford,  my grandfather got sick so I was back to Portugal for a while,  really decided USA is a bad idea because this kind of family situations and being very far away... not good,  then I came back, stopped seeing that woman,  started seeing someone else very shortly after (mistake),  went to Dublin for the first time and fell in love with the city for a weekend, quit smoking,  felt Brexit turning my opinion about the UK,  further explored the idea that I'm through with Oxford, maybe with England entirely,  went back to Portugal and christened my goddaughter,  back to the UK,  saw Portugal win the Euro and thought "man, the UK does really suck",  then back to Portugal to be the best man at my friends' wedding,  realised...

Quando ainda andava com a Daniela, decidi pôr em ação uma série de mudanças com vista a melhorar o meu bem estar geral. Na verdade isto começou porque decidi encarar o meu tempo com a Daniela como uma oportunidade para revisitar todos os meus demónios e perceber até que ponto estou irremediavelmente avariado. A resposta? Não estou. Até estou muito bem, obrigado! Tenho o defeito de não saber escolher, de nos primeiros quinze dias olhar qualquer rapariga que ande comigo como sendo "aquela". Claro que eventualmente chega a hora de ela corresponder às minhas expetativas exageradas e depois buraco.  Bem, isto começou como um post sobre voltar ao exercício físico. VOLTA A MIM FIO CONDUTOR! 10K 24/08/2016  

Que dia em cheio. Finalmente tive um dia de trabalho, o primeiro em dois meses talvez, em que desempenhei a um ritmo que me deixou satisfeito. Sabe bem sentir que o cérebro decidiu vir cá para fora brincar. Mais um dia me espera amanhã, e quero manter este ânimo, esta vontade de trabalhar e fechar chamadas. Usar o embalo para resolver Problemas. Problemas são os pedidos de suporte que na verdade são investigações de longo curso. Menor prioridade, mas a complexidade força a estar sossegado e concentrado, algo que tem sido muito difícil da minha parte manter. 

Sometimes it pays off to insist with something. I'm glad I decided to insist on DoD a little more, and get past the crafting learning curve. Yes, it does imply memorizing a bunch of item recipes, something that's useless outside the game. And yes, the interface is fiddly, forcing me to do inventory management (and that's as fun as it sounds). THE LEAST KOSHER SWORD IN THE DUNGEON LADIES LOVE IT!? Getting the right materials and crafting those grenades... Fantastic. That monster zoo wouldn't have been cleared without it. It's a shame I'm not rocking with a sword build. My guy is about smashing stuff with a hammer. In any case, my gear looks good now, and it seems Mr. Pure Clocke's adventure is well on its way! I'm happy!

Goddamn it game, I was happy to be re-discovering you. I enjoyed your harsh levels, the mysteriously opaque mechanisms, your sense of humour. God, but you had a nice sense of humour. BUT THEN THE CRAFTING. LOADS AND LOADS OF THE ITEM CRAFTING.

Recomendado algures como o melhor filme de 2015, dentro da categoria a que diz respeito. Só posso concordar. O nível de envolvimento dos atores é de alto calibre. Tanto a sua entrega ao guião como às cenas está soberba. Já vi desempenhos piores em filmes que não eram para adultos. Ides julgar que estou a gozar, mas a verdade é que dei por mim a saltar as partes de sexo quase todas para ver como é que a história se ia desenrolar. Com uma cinematografia espetacular, é o que o Sexo e a Cidade e as 50 Sombras de Grey tentaram ser, sem nunca muito bem chegar lá. 4/5, Desinibido e Lavadinho

I just finished watching the fourth season of the Americans. The problem with writing my thoughts down as soon as I'm done with this season is the fucking season cliffhanger tastes very bitter. A LOT HAS BEEN LEFT UP IN THE AIR AND  TO ME, TO ME BABY, IT'S SO UNFAIR

Devia ir correr hoje, sim. Devia ter cuidado com a minha alimentação hoje, sim. E depois de ver fotos minhas em que estou gordo de casaco de cabedal, isto... VALE A DOBRAR. RAIOS PARTAM O NEO BADOCHA.

This song encapsulates perfectly what's cool about the 80's. It's a foggy February morning. Humid. I have long hair and a white ribbon tied around my head. In this non-descript Florida beach, I perfect my sweet Crane Stance against the waves, under the watchful eye of a discount Mr. Myagi. I harness my resentment and channel it to accomplish my vengeance. I'll wax in, they'll fuck off. "Those dicks at the Snake Dojo will pay dearly for what they've done to Ettie. KEE-AI!!!"

So, so, so, what have we concluded with today's exercise? Today I decided to revamp my blog/website/deposit for mental/existential angst. Blogger is behind wordpress, tumblr and, I believe, Windows Notepad. Some features are broken, other stuff just seems left behind. And Google+ integration. What the shit? I don't know, it looks like a failed project that's sort of kept alive because the installed user base is big-ish. My blog was actually two. A Portuguese site, and English site. Both with the same name, pointing to one another. That allowed me to enjoy separate correct cultural environments: the English version had dates and section titles in English, likewise for Portuguese. But my view count was split, and it forced me to keep two separate design templates. Not ideal.

Ainda bem que continuo com falta de auto disciplina. Disse a mim mesmo que ia levar o meu tempo, em vez de freneticamente tentar reconstruir este site. Bom, é isto. Não é bonito. Mas cai naturalmente para o uso de pretos, vermelhos e brancos. Não, não é o esquema de cores mais harmonioso de sempre. Que porra, até é bastante agressivo, com os espirros a lembrar as minhas tatuagens e a nuvem de palavras ali em cima a dar a ideia que vai chover sangue. 

Está na hora de usar mais este espaço, e talvez importar todo o conteúdo da versão inglesa para esta banda. Consolidar, conciliar, arrumar, disfrutar.

Se quiseres ser bem sucedido, faz planos. Se quiseres ser feliz, não os faças.

Enquanto estiver em guerra com qualquer parte minha que seja, não terei paz. Apenas momentos de silêncio, enquanto as frentes de batalha recarregam armas.

Acho estupidamente inacreditável o quão fácil é para o meu cérebro se distrair com merdas que não levam a lado nenhum construtivo, mas sim a mais fantasia, mais isolamento, mais distanciamento, mais cinismo. Apesar de reconhecer o quão fácil é para mim me distrair da tarefa entre mãos, continua a ser complicado de evitar. Adiante.

"Nec audiendi qui solent dicere, Vox populi, vox Dei, quum tumultuositas vulgi semper insaniae proxima sit." Nalguns dias acordas, levantas a cabeça da terra que é a tua Vida e olhas para o mundo e só ouves disparates.

Só tenho a dizer que são bem educados/as, inocentes, inspiradores, mente aberta, menos dados a violência, mais preocupados com o meio ambiente, sem celulite, um cu que parece uma cebola tanto me fez chorar, nas ruas, nos corredores e nos elevadores, meu deus tinha um cu que parecia a caminha dum anjo, anjo esse minha estátua ardente que se ergue do meu colo e pulula latejante, soando o trompete que solta todos os cães do inferno, pois se lhe afincava os dentes no ombro, ia dar lágrimas, mas que sei eu, era apenas mais uma manhã sem direito a café, a descer a rua envergonhado, mas que fiz eu para corromper tamanha inocência, deixai lá a juventude ser quem é, tão puros e inocentes meus ricos undergrads rsrsrssrsrs até sempre, festival sempre, cerveja sempre.

Through fatigue and the many cuts and bruises I can see it blooming and remaining strong regardless Amidst a wild copper sea Two green beacons centring a delicate visage I ask myself then: does the light in your smiling eyes Cause a feeling of weightlessness? Does it? And does the fact it's been been a long, hard week Snuff some of it out? Does it? Hold my hand, and let's sway And kiss and then to bed Where I'll hold the whole of you Until we sleep. So it's dark now. And quiet now. And close here. And warm here. It begins We sublimate all that exhaustion Into dreams of stars and planets Of things ancient and forever more Of nebulae and other celestial bodies Floating free across the cosmos Seeing all points connected and yet Untethered from concerns and troubles In the self evident patterns Through the absence of all gravity A certain weightlessness is felt.

Listen without judging. Help out with day to day stuff. Inspire through involvement.

A felicidade morre no momento em que é tomada como garantida. Algo pode ficar, mas é sempre vazio de conteúdo.

 A tumultuosa natureza do teu ser Toca um enorme sino no céu que assinala A hora de te procurar, A satisfação de te caçar. Olho-te. Siderado na visão do teu corpo divino Rasga-se na minha cara um sorriso felino. Agarro-te. Majestosa num momento eterno Fazes-me a vida um inferno. Sorrio mais, enlouqueço com o teu perfume E à medida que te cubro em beijos Sacio esta fome que me consome.

Your scent, your skin, your body,  Your lips, your eyes, your face,  All alight, all teeming,  All burning up with desire,  I want to take you, taste you,  And let myself loose inside you  Go sovereign, take you higher  God help me, I'm on fire.

Que se fodam as dúvidas, vou continuar a fazer o que sinto estar certo.

What I'm saying is that I don't feel secure in the other person, in what she might feel about me. I don't feel secure in myself, so I mistake trying to be my best self with trying to be my perfect self. I aim for being as nice as possible, instead of true to myself, bottling up sh*t until something breaks. Usually along the lines of "She did something legitimately wrong and I said nothing then. Now it's f*cking go time, queue up Twisted Sisters' 'We're Not Gonna Take It'." I think I'm broken. I pulled the rug from under the feet of the woman I loved for the better part of 6 years. It came out fast, unexpected. Things weren't all pink rainbows, but there wasn't doom and gloom. Not really. I didn't cheat, but in the last few months I was "putting myself out there", always without really getting anywhere. It happened often enough that I knew if nothing changed I would eventually cheat on her. I loved her. But I...

Desde que soube que fui o produto duma gravidez acidental, sempre me senti culpado der ter sido o motivo pelo qual os meus pais assentaram. Quando eles atravessaram uma fase de ruptura, isso tornou-se mais evidente.

Foram quase quatro meses sem ir à rua correr. Está na altura de mudar. As razões pelas quais parei foram: Horário de trabalho difícil de contornar Escuridão Mau tempo Inércia Estes impedimentos entretanto foram contornados. Respectivamente: Comprei uma bolsa para levar o telemóvel; vou planear os percursos de modo a poder regressar a casa Rapidamente em caso de chamada Comprei uma lanterna Nada a fazer. Mau tempo é sempre inevitável quando acontece. Tenho de me comprometer ou a correr à chuva e ao frio, ou a fazer cross-training em casa A inércia tende a diminuir à medida que treino mais. Tenho de acertar na frequência Tencionava correr hoje, mas estou exausto e cheio de sono. Optei então por analisar isto a fundo e refazer o meu plano. O meu erro anterior foi o de não permitir flexibilidade suficiente para conseguir cumprir os meus objectivos. A minha média de distância semanal é de 30.8 Km's. A distância mínima foi de 20 Km's, e a máxima de 42 Km's. Diz ...

Be Proactive: Being proactive means that you take responsibility for your life and you don’t blame others for what ‘doesn’t’ happen. Proactive people are responsible, choose their behaviour and are less affected by the environment around them. This is because, between the stimulus and response you have the power and freedom to choose the response. However, one of the most important choices you make every day is the ‘language’ you choose to use. Language is an indicator of how you perceive yourself. Proactive people use proactive language; I can, I will, I prefer etc. (reactive people say I can’t). Proactive people focus their energy on things they can control, and do something about those things. Reactive people, on the other hand, focus their energy on things they have little control over. Therefore, being aware of where you expend your energy is critical to being effective. Read in Quora . Post by Gerard Danford . Sickness and old age in a man, bringing him low and out ...

Working in a point where rules and procedures don't apply directly. The process is constantly fluid. When you're so exhausted you just want to let yourself go in the arms of a comprehending woman, let yourself go inside her and for one blissful moment just die just a little. I need to surrender myself to sadness, loss and exhaustion. Nothing in the tank left for decided optimism. I must retreat. Into the arms of a titan I cower.

When inspiration and motivation fail, fall back to method. I must always have a method in place. Even if things come out formulaic, they will at least come out. Consistency of output and hard work trump spikes of talent and moments of inspiration.

So I'm back. It's been really rough getting back to work. The new seating arrangement has me facing just my screen and I lost the view of the room. It feels cramped and isolating. The work itself has become very boring, with me chasing down numbers and not working on calls where I find the objectives worthwhile. It's been about minor things of no real consequence. This has been demoralising. I'm now finally feeling angry enough to start moving this situation around. I will improve my day to day experience, change what I can change so things are better for me. If this continues to feel lacklustre, then I'll start thinking about more drastic changes. This fucking job is confusing. It's common to start following a thread, then get constantly derailed. The amount of effort to get the admin ball rolling is fucking insane. I know I should just do it, but the size of shit-cake I have to eat through is goddamn soul crushing

Today being 2 degrees outside, that meant a chance for ice on the road. I decided to take the bus. I got 5 minutes late the stop, at 8:30, I knew it as soon as I finished showering, sitting in my boxer shorts, sighing in front of the mirror. Didn't matter, I could still catch the next bus at 9:25 and be slightly late to work. So I get coffee, whittle away the time reading, carry on with the Red Station book (one that's not very good), I catch that bus. They switched drivers, and it was an old fella, the type that doesn't get this new electronic ticket machines. Different times, different times. After fiddling with it for what it felt like a cold eternity, I hop into it. It's the "slow" one to Didcot, goes all the way through Abingdon. I don't mind, I have my book. "So you like heavy metal?"

The answer must be yes. I do not engage in self-destruction. I try to keep balance. I am kind. I am courageous. I do not shy away from work, if the work is necessary and justified. Maybe I need to be more forgiving.